Supply Run
by Silvi Henna
Summary: Kind of an answer to the prompt at the lj community supportsamruby. Ruby, Ruby/Sam


**Title: **Supply run.  
**Author:** Silvi Henna  
**Fandom:** Supernatural  
**Disclaimer: **The character of Ruby belongs to Eric Kripke and Co. I do not and I am only using her for entertainment purposes. No Money is gain from this work of fiction.  
**Rating:** G  
**Spoilers:** None  
**Character/Pairing: **Ruby, Sam/Ruby

**Notes:** I've never answered a prompt before. I'm beginning to realize why. I suck at those. Even though there were really no hard guidelines to go by on these prompts it still...*shakes head*

This ficlett is unbeated so any mistakes are of course mine. It did get a once over by my sister for the flow, though. I guess you could say that this is an answer to the promt#1 - _Bandages_ at **supportsamruby** LJ community though a very vague one I would assume.

That prompt spawn a few idea in my head (4 to be precise) and this is the first one.*g*

_Enjoy._

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Part 1/1.

Surprisingly enough there are few things Ruby hates more then the smell of disinfectant.

It's odd. She would think that after everything she'd have other _stronger_ hang-ups like the smell of sulfur and human filth, but no.

Then again, they say familiarity breeds contempt and hellfire is the one smell she knows above all others. Her reaction to it is different then the one she has against disinfectant, it' visceral and goes to the core of what she is, while any kin of disinfectant, she's not particular picky what kind, turns her borrowed stomach, a very_ human _reaction.

You might escape Hell, although in her darkest moments Ruby doubts she ever made it out. The things she's seen, the things she's experience while being topside makes her fear that this could all be another mind game of Lilith, Lucifer knows she's fallen for more then one, and after 80.000 years you're bound to run out of things to do.

There is precious little she hasn't done or hasn't been done to her. And still there is more humanity in her then she's ever seen in any other demon. There is surely more then in any angel.

She thinks angels are worse then demons and the more they are forced to interact with the 'things' Ruby can see the thought begin to mirror on Sam's face. She still doesn't know what to think of that.

Hell should be all she knows of after all this time yet still Ruby maintains her independence. She's a demon but hell isn't her home, if it's anywhere it's by Sam's side or, you know, behind him.

She doesn't know what makes her so uneasy about the smell of disinfectants. It might be the impersonal stark smell of it, doesn't really matter since all of them turns her borrowed stomach.

The few times she allows the thought to cross her mind she entertains the possibility that it could have something to do with the body she chose to be able to be with Sam. She sometimes imagines the smell of the hospital having permeated into the body and it makes her nose curl. Except… she'd been the same in the blond.

Whatever the cause it makes her shudder whenever she has to go to the pharmacy and sometimes she wishes she'd tell Sam to fuck it and go himself.

Shaking her head she holds her breath and opens the door to the pharmacy. Blinking in the florescence light she quickly grabs a basket and locates the aisle with the things she needed to purchase. Fishing out the note with the items scribbled down in Sam's neat handwriting she began dumping the stuff in the hideous red basket.

They'd been running low on the first aid stuff what with Sam recklessness and always managing to get himself hurt. Flicking her hair behind her shoulder with a toss of her head Ruby bends down and plucks the bandages and adds them to the basket. Making sure she got all the things he'd listed on the note she quickly goes to the counter and pays with the money Sam handed to her before she left.

By the time she leaves the pharmacy she thinks she has enough to tidy them over for at least a couple of more weeks. But then again you never know.

Things can happen that you don't foresee.

Like the couple of demons popping out of the alley and barring her way to safety.

_Fuck me,_ she thinks annoyed, _and I without my knife._

End.


End file.
